{"id":1549,"date":"2011-08-14T16:55:15","date_gmt":"2011-08-14T15:55:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/littleindian.awmyth.net\/?p=1549"},"modified":"2011-08-15T19:48:42","modified_gmt":"2011-08-15T18:48:42","slug":"for-the-crying-and-singing-of-a-guitar","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/littleindian.awmyth.net\/?p=1549","title":{"rendered":"for the crying and singing of a guitar"},"content":{"rendered":"

 <\/p>\n

Backwhen in Calcutta during my college days, I happened to be in a band.
\nWe were a humble three guitars and a drummer ensemble and a singer;
\nwe went by the name of The Doc’Yard.<\/p>\n

We broke many college norms to delve into western music;
\nwhen it was considered bad culture by the traditional puritans.
\nSinging and playing the usual Beatles hits
\nwith a sprinkling of the Dead, Stones and many others;
\nbefore turning our hands at writing some of our own music.<\/p>\n

I was happy drumming for the initial months and many a few gigs,
\nbut then turned to playing the lead guitar to fill a void.<\/p>\n

It was a time when I, as a college student, didn’t have much money to splash around.
\nI had a worse for wear Rs 100 ($10) guitar; a locally made solitary pickup job,
\nI had it rejuvenated by the professionals with a brand new pickup
\nand fresh lick of cream paint and a black fingerboard,
\nI was ready.<\/p>\n

But my money had run out.
\nI needed an amplifier. I had to settle for a borrowed little contraption of unknown origin.
\nIt sported four chunky valves, but the sound it produced at its loudest
\ncould only be described as
\n‘underdriven’.<\/p>\n

Like Mr Knopfler’s “George”<\/a>, I knew all them fancy chords,
\nbut unlike him, I also wanted to make my guitar cry and sing.<\/p>\n

Undaunted, I spent hours trying to get the sounds of my guitar heroes; the likes of
\nGeorge Harrison, Mark Knopfler, David Gilmour and Eric Clapton.
\nI had no pedals, no fancy knobs, no whammy bars.<\/p>\n

I turned my fingertips raw till they almost bled,
\nbending the strings to get them to sing and cry.
\nI did try,
\nit was hard work, the strings were stiff and stubborn
\nand the amplifier refused to cry; it would only sing its own tune.<\/p>\n

A day came when I completed my final exams and moved onto
\na different phase of my life. Career and job took a priority,
\nand sadly, after five years, it was time to hang up my trusted guitar.<\/p>\n

Now, after many years
\nand thousands of miles away from where I started,
\nI can indulge in my purchases; I am now a proud owner of a
\nMusic Man 112 RP Sixty-Five<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Now I can sit and bend the strings
\nand hear my guitar crying and singing
\nso easily, so effortlessly, getting the sounds of the guitar legends of backwhen.<\/p>\n

\"A<\/a><\/p>\n

Today, I got out the cleaning rags and set about to dust its inner
\nand in the process I found, by the numbers on its parts,
\nthis amplifier had been assembled in November 1979.<\/p>\n

I am just sitting and thinking;<\/p>\n

Wow!
\nwhen I was tearing my fingertips out for the want of a good amplifier,
\nlittle did I know, that by then, an amplifier had been designed by Mr Leo Fender
\nand already built by technicians somewhere in Anaheim, California
\nthat would one day heal my finger tips.<\/p>\n